


Written in the Heart

by phdmama



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, I don't really know a lot about boats, M/M, Magic, Multi, Pirates, or pirates, there may be some angst, there will be smut eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6367123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phdmama/pseuds/phdmama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is a wizard. Louis is a pirate.</p><p>Please, please - I'm a new writer, if you enjoyed, please leave a comment or even a kudos, I'd love to hear what you think!</p><p>Standard disclaimers apply: I don't own any of these characters, have no connection to any of the players, please don't ever break the 4th wall, etc. etc.!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV

Harry struggled not to fight against the rough rope thongs binding his wrists. He knew it was useless - he could feel the blood seeping between his fingers as testament to that fact. But it went against everything he had inside him, everything he was, not to act. He could hear the moans of the wounded men around him, though the smoke from the cannons was still thick enough to obscure his vision. 

The power within him ached. He’d been struck by lightening as a child, and that had somehow unlocked the gift within him. He’d been dead, they told him years later, no breath, no heartbeat, nothing. And then, just as they’d given up hope, his body had convulsed, his back arching as he gasped, drawing in air, alive, impossibly alive. He’d slept for 3 weeks, they told him, and then seemed to return to his normal self, though quieter, until the day he’d been outside playing and a bird had flown in to the window above him. He could remember clearly the crack against the glass, and the dull thud as the small body hit the ground. They still spoke in whispers, he knew, of how he’d turned, and run to the bird, still living, but barely. How he’d held his hands to the bird’s small chest, and how the impossibly bent neck had straightened. The story had grown in the telling, of course, as all stories do. He hadn’t started to glow, or sparkle like a diamond (though he was particularly fond of that version), he hadn’t levitated, or had a convulsion, or spoken in tongues. In every telling of the story, though, the bird flew away. Whole. Unharmed. And in every story, Prince Harry collapsed, and had been near death again himself, for days. He could heal, yes, near unto death, but the price he paid was high. It turned out that bringing him back from death was the only time he'd ever been able to heal himself.

The King and Queen had been informed, and experts in magic called from every corner of the kingdom. Magic was known, of course, though very rare these days. There were tales of great wizards in the past, who could calm the storms, stop the earth from shaking, or make it start if you’d particularly annoyed them. Wizards who could speak to the animals, change their own appearance at will (or yours for a price), stop a man’s heart simply by looking at him. Over time, these tales fell into obscurity as the kingdom progressed. Science overtook magic. Medicine overtook healing. Truth, they said, overtook illusion. Until Harry. Prince Harry, the beloved youngest son of Queen Anne. His father, her consort, had been killed in a hunting accident when Harry was a baby, and it had been just the three of them, Anne, Harry and his big sister, the Crown Princess and Heir to the Throne, Gemma, for years until the day the youngest son of the neighboring kingdom had taken shelter at their country estate during a storm (always a storm, Harry mused to himself). Prince Robin and Queen Anne had taken one look at each other and fallen madly in love. They’d been married within the month, solving the problem of border negotiations and Gemma and Harry’s lack of a father in one small ceremony.

It turned out that magic had long run in the royal veins, but seemed only to come out when sorely needed. During the years of drought, a queen with legendary weather working powers was born. During the wheat blight and the years of famine, a king with the ability to call the plants from the ground had been born. During years of war, the healers were born. It was said that the stronger wizards could recognize and activate the gift in others, but that hadn’t happened in hundreds of years. As far as the experts could glean from the archives, Harry was the first healing wizard born in 762 years. Not that the kingdom had been entirely at peace all that time, of course. There were always brigands and bandits, border skirmishes to deal with. Pirates, Harry thought to himself, with narrowed eyes. And it wasn’t always war that called out the healing gift. In one notable story, Prince Andrew’s gift had been activated when he was 7, and had Healed his dog when she had fallen into a well and nearly drowned. When he was 10, his father, Prince William the Lovely, had fallen to an illness that none of the Kingdom’s physician’s could recognize, and that their advanced medical science couldn’t seem to treat. Prince Andrew had been shielded from this until he turned up in the middle of the night, to lay next to his father with his hands on his father’s chest. They’d tried to move him, of course, as heir to the throne, he couldn’t be risked, but he became so angry and upset, they’d feared he’d harm himself. He’d stayed for 4 days, not moving, until his father’s fever broke. He’d stood up, collapsed, and if the stories were to be believed, had been unable to move from his bed for more than 6 months. Yes, the cost was high, but it was the price the gift demanded be paid. From reading the reports of other healers, Harry knew that his own power was exceptionally strong. He wasn’t called to heal all who needed it, and could manage less catastrophic injuries or illnesses without too much debilitation (well, his mother would argue that 2 weeks in bed was too high). At 20, Harry had been forced to learn to move past the suffering of others, and at times to make the choice for who would live and who would die. He’d made his peace with the fact that he couldn’t heal everyone, learning from the thoughts and writings of those who’d come before him that he couldn’t control the fate of others, but had to choose carefully where to share his gift. The price he paid for healing was well known. The price he paid for not healing was not. But he lived with it.

Which brought them to this moment. There had been a storm, (always a storm, Harry thought again) and their ship had been blown off-course. This was no deep-sea vessel, designed instead to carry the Royal Family down the eastern coast to the southern part of the kingdom. The kingdom was small, but the mountains that crossed the center of their land made such travel more difficult and longer, so the sea routes were well-established. Harry was journeying down to the southern city of Diacun for his 3 month rotation on the Court of Grievances, a system started by his great grandfather to give the common folks a voice to their lords. He spent a quarter of every year there, choosing to go during the winter months, for it was much warmer in the South, and the seas were beautiful. They had been 3 days into the 7 day journey, when the storm had risen, and the next 36 hours had been a fight for their lives. The storm had finally died down, leaving them with no land in sight. Harry knew the Royal Navigators were trained and experienced, but they needed the clear night skies to figure out their position, to get them back to safety. They’d been moving slowly, waiting for nightfall, when the rogue ship had approached them from west, guns blazing. The fight had been brief, but violent, from what Harry had heard. Captain Liam, the head of Harry's assigned guard and acting captain on this voyage, had yanked Harry by the arm into his own cabin, shoving him under the bed with a harsh whispered “stay here, do not move, do not make a sound until I come for you.” While Harry was no pampered prince of the kingdom - he trained daily with his royal guard, he had hunted wild boar, he’d served his time on the borders (which had ended up being remarkably boring as the strife had been settled with a strategic marriage within days of him arriving at his post, so his year had been spent drilling with the guard and working in the fields, not to mention a lovely dalliance with the son of the Mayor of the village) - he knew also that he was not the strongest or best fighter in the kingdom, as his gift interfered with the ability to fight, and that he would only be a liability to the men sworn to protect him if he tried to take up arms. So he had hidden.

It had been in vain, of course. They’d been boarded, a crew of about 30 rough looking men and women swarming the ship, sacking the stores, and roughly collecting the crew on the deck. His own crew weren’t obviously the royal crew, of course, the ship sailed under neutral colors, but most of the coastal towns knew them, and would often be out to celebrate when they knew the Sparrow was passing. Harry wasn’t sure if the ruffians who’d boarded them knew the prize they’d been given. To be fair, Harry didn’t know much about what a pirate might know, or not. Captain Liam’s cabin had been one of the last searched, and Harry had stayed still, heart pounding, hoping that they wouldn’t look under the bed, knowing that this was futile. And he’d been right. He’d seen rough boots stop right next to his head, and the comforter had been flipped up as the man knelt down. The bluest eyes he’d ever seen met his own, and an amused look had crossed the admittedly gorgeous face of the man surveying him.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” The man reached out and grabbed Harry’s shoulder. “An errant cabin boy, or I miss my mark! Come on out now, there’s a good lad. We won’t hurt you. We don’t hurt civilians.” Harry glared, rapidly assessing his options and realizing that he really had only one. Oh well, he wouldn’t go quietly.

“Unhand me, you…you scoundrel!” he hissed, as he slid out from under the bed. He winced as he stood, unconsciously stretching to ease the ache in his back. As he did so, he missed the way the blue eyes flared crinkled in amusement. 

“Scoundrel? Really? You wound me, lad!”

Harry whipped his head around to glare at the man, breathing in relief that he hadn’t been recognized, “Of course! What else would you call a man who makes a living…” he gestured to the chaos in the cabin and the captain’s men and women, and this could only be the captain, finished emptying Captain Liam’s wardrobe into the sacks they carried.

The strange captain raised one eyebrow and said contemplatively, “Well, I would probably go with something like privateer, or swashbuckling business sailor, but…” he paused and then nodded decisively and smiled, “I’ll take scoundrel. Turn around lad, and let me bind your wrists with no fuss, it will go easier for you.” As Harry angrily swung out at him, he hissed in surprise and danced out of the way. In an instant, a lethal looking sword was pressed against Harry’s throat, and the blue eyes seemed to go cold though the smile didn’t waver. Harry froze. “Feisty one, are you? And my, so pretty, Come now, be a good lad.” The captain pressed forward, pushing Harry back until he was flat against the wall, the sword against his throat. He swallowed, dropped his eyes,and the captain saw his surrender, and pulled back a bit. Harry carefully shifted, brushing against the other man’s body as he turned to face the wall, eyes burning, and held his wrists behind his back.

He’d been shoved onto the deck, frantically counting the number of crew sitting huddled together, or lying quietly on the deck, and breathed a sigh of relief. He caught a brief glimpse of Niall's blond head with the group down at the end of the deck, and felt his heart ease briefly. All the crew were accounted for, and none dead. Yet. His power surged and he stumbled, almost going down. “Easy there, lad,” the strange captain murmured behind him, a steadying hand low on his back as he moved Harry over to the wall next to Liam. Liam’s brows were drawn and he looked, well, murderous, as he glared up at the captain of the pirate ship.

“Captain Tomlinson,” he hissed, and Harry was surprised to feel himself almost snicker. Of course Liam would continue to observe the niceties of formal address. “Of course it would be you. The most notorious…privateer on the Eastern Seas.”

The captain, Tomlinson, Liam had said, nodded, but a shout from somewhere down the deck grabbed his attention, and he’d moved purposefully away, holding up one finger as if to say, “hold that thought, I’ll be back.”

Liam turned to Harry, the murderous look swiftly morphing into worry and guilt. “Pri…” he caught himself and started again, “Harry. I’m so sorr-“

“Hush.” Harry said softly, “this is not your fault, Liam. You can’t control the storms, and you can’t control pirates. This is just some terrible luck.” Liam frowned at that, and Harry knew what he was thinking. Liam was terribly, well superstitious wasn’t quite the right word, but Harry knew that Liam believed in fate, and in the workings of a purposeful universe. Harry himself wasn’t so sure about that. “No, I can’t let you think this is your fault. And he’s, I suppose, a decent enough sort of pirate. He told me they don’t hurt civilians. And we’ve none dead, Liam. Perhaps all they want are the goods and the money, and they’ll let us go.” As he spoke, he struggled against his bounds, and could feel his wrists rubbed raw until he admitted defeat, and stilled. He opened his mouth to speak again, and then paused. 

Liam’s gaze was caught by something beyond Harry’s shoulder, his face frozen, and then a look of pain crossed his face. “No, Harry. They won’t.” And behind Harry, he heard a soft gasp and a rough voice said, “Liam?”

Liam’s eyes dropped, and a mask seemed to settle over his features as he took in a deep breath. Harry twisted around, wondering who could have Liam’s face so still. Harry and Liam were not simply Prince and Guard Captain, but they were also friends. Along with Niall, the court bard, the three of them had grown up together. They’d studied together, Harry demanding company with his royal tutors, until Liam had left at 16 to go down to Diacun for two years to complete his training. Harry had missed him terribly, and been thrilled to welcome him back as the Captain of the Prince’s Guard at 18. Liam had a strong mind and an even stronger heart, Harry had always thought. He’d come back from Diacun quieter, more subdued for a time, but over the next two years, he’d smiled more, and for the last year he’d come back more to his old self. Now, Harry looked up into the amber eyes of one of the most beautiful men he’d ever seen. He was whip-thin, but clearly all muscle and sinewy tendons. There was no weakness in this man, from the cut of his jawline to sharp sword in his hand. Harry noted the brace of pistol stuck into his belt. The man was oddly still as the smoke swirled around him, and he said again, in a voice that sounded almost broken to Harry’s ears, “Liam, is that you?”

To Harry’s surprise, Liam looked at him for a moment and whispered, “I’m sorry, Harry” and then lifted his face to meet the eyes of the man staring down at him. “Yes, Zayn. It’s me.”

The man, Zayn, remained frozen for another moment, and then so quickly Harry wondered if he’d imagined it, Zayn’s face sagged in despair. He made a move as if to step forward, and then his eyes shuttered, and he turned away. “Tommo. There’s something you need to know.”

Captain Tomlinson moved to Zayn’s side from where he’d been supervising the transfer of chests and sacks to his own larger warship. “Yes? What is it?” He looked away, distracted by the movement of his crew.

Zayn sighed, and waved a hand towards Liam, whose head was bowed, as if the very sight of Zayn was too painful to be endured. “This is…this is Liam, Lou.”

Captain Tomlinson paused, and stared at Zayn. “What? Liam? Your Liam?”

At that, Liam snorted and muttered angrily something that might have been “Not anymore,” which Harry filed away for further investigation later. It was no secret between them that Liam fancied lads, just as it was no secret that Harry was more interested in the person than the plumbing. Of the three of them, only Niall was exclusively interested in the ladies. While men loving men, and women loving women, were not in the majority in their kingdom, it was not an unknown phenomenon, and was generally an accepted practice. There was even provision for it in the royal laws to allow for legal inheritance. But this man, Liam had never mentioned him. Harry figured he had to have been a paramour from Liam’s time in Diacun, and wondered if he were the reason for Liam’s altered state upon his return, and even now, three years later, his moments of melancholy. 

Zayn only nodded, swallowed and said, “Yes…my Liam. After he…left, I never told you where he went.” Captain Tomlinson’s eyes narrowed, and he agreed, “No, you never did, and I always wondered why. You said only that he loved duty more than you.” At that Liam’s eyes closed briefly and he shook his head silently. Harry pressed his arm against Liam’s and dropped his head down, knowing with sinking heart, the information that was to come.

Zayn said, “He left to become the captain of the Prince’s Royal Guard.”

At that, Captain Tomlinson’s eyebrow raised, and his gaze hardened as he stared at Zayn. “Oh really? We will talk more of this…later. But for now…” his voice trailed off and he was clearly analyzing the situation with this new information. He nodded once to himself as if committing to the course adjustment, and then said silkily, “Why don’t you introduce us?”

Zayn snorted softly at this, and said “Liam, this is Louis Tomlinson, captain of this ship. Louis, I’m…pleased to introduce to Lord Liam Payne, Captain of Prince Harry’s Royal Guard.” Liam glared in mutinous anger at Zayn as Louis said, “Well, Captain Payne, or, “ he paused, “should I call you Lord?” Liam pressed his lips together and stared silently at Louis, who laughed, and said, “I think I’ll just call you Liam, there’s only one captain on board the ship, and unfortunately, sir, it is no longer you.” He glanced at Zayn, and then using his sword, pressed it gently but firmly under Harry’s chin, lifting his face to his own. Liam made as if to move forward, but Zayn placed one booted foot on his chest and gently pushed him back down. At Liam’s snarl of rage, Zayn looked sad, but just shook his head.

“Don’t, Li. He won’t hurt him.”

“Don’t call me that,” Liam hissed, “you have no right. Not anymore.”

Harry registered all this as he proudly lifted his chin and resignedly met Captain Tomlinson’s blue eyes with his own green eyes. “Well, well, well,” Captain Tomlinson said again, “what have we here?” He continued, “Was there something you forgot to mention…Prince Harry?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Would you have mentioned it, if you were me?”

Captain Tomlinson cocked his head and said, “Well, you do have a point there. But now, I have a problem. What *am* I going to do with you?”

“Let me go!” Harry burst out. “You can have the goods! Take what you want. Just leave us enough food to get back to shore. We were blown off course, and you can see this isn’t a ship for the deep oceans. We won’t follow you.” His voice broke, and he took a deep breath, reminding himself not to show panic. “I swear it. Let us go with our lives, and we will not follow you. By the time we get back to the coast, you can be long gone.”

Louis looked as if he were pondering this seriously. “Well, my Prince, that is an interesting offer. You seem to think you have some negotiating power here.” The sword pressed a bit more firmly against Harry’s throat, drawing a gasp from him, and another aborted movement from Liam. “But the thing is, I have your ship. I have your crew, and your goods. And my sword at your throat. So I ask again, what should I do with you?”

Harry glared and leaned back against the railing, trying to ease the pressure on his throat. “Well, Captain, perhaps you might enlighten me as to what you had in mind.”

Louis grinned in delight, and even through his rage, Harry couldn’t help but appreciate this man’s beautiful smile, even if his eyes were cold. “I *do* like your spirit, my prince! Now that I’m seeing you in daylight, I can’t believe I missed this in the cabin. Ah well, I must have been a bit preoccupied.” He paused, looking thoughtful, “The thing is. This is a rare opportunity. It’s not every day that one has the Prince of the Land under sword, though sadly not the heir, I bet they’d pay even more for her.” And with that, Harry understood. 

“You’re going to hold me for ransom.” He said dully.

Louis looked delighted. “Why yes, my prince, I think I am.” He turned away, and noted that the activity seemed to have slowed around them. “Paul!” he called, and very large and well-muscled man stepped away from the others.

“Yes, sir?”

“Everything loaded?”

“Yessir, everything that’s not nailed down.” The man grinned, and Harry glared again. 

Louis raised his voice, and called out, “Oi oi!”

His motley crew’s voices rang back, “Oi oi Captain!”

“We’ve had a slight change of plans. In addition to the lovely gift of these goods, we’ll be bringing a guest back with us.” At this, the crew started, shocked murmurs running through their ranks. “Zayn, please escort the prince to my cabin. Leave the others. Paul, loosen their bounds, you know the drill.” He turned as if to leave.

“But Louis,” Zayn’s voice was soft, “Have you thought this through?” 

Louis stepped closer to Zayn and lowered his voice. “Zayn, this could be it. The big score we’ve talked about. This could be…” his voice dropped even lower and Harry wasn’t entirely sure but thought he said “…the last one.”

Zayn roughly pulled Harry to his feet, grabbing him by his bound arms and shoving him forward, Then he paused. “But what about Li…about Lord Payne?”

Louis turned carelessly, “Leave him.”

“But Louis…”

Louis’s voice hardened. “You have to leave him, Zayn. After all,” this time his grin had nothing kind in it whatsoever, “turn about’s fair play.”

At that, Harry could feel Zayn’s body stiffen beside him, and then Zayn shoved him forward again. He murmured in Harry’s ear, “C’mon then, lad, let’s get you on to the ship.” At that, Liam tried to rise with a shout, and collapsed as Zayn kicked out harshly and sent him sprawling on the deck. With his hands bound behind him, Liam hit the deck hard, and groaned. He lifted his head, staring at Zayn with hatred, blood from his nose streaming down his face. “I’ll never forgive you for this, Zayn. Never.”

Zayn shrugged as he moved Harry towards the plank that joined the two ships. “Now you know how I feel, Liam.”

Harry felt his heart plummet as he was shoved up on to the plank, and for a moment he let himself imagine simply falling into the ocean. He had heard his mother proclaim grandly more than once, that they “never negotiate with terrorists, Harry, never.” What, he wondered, would she do when faced with the possible loss of her son? “Steady now” Zayn murmured as Harry stumbled, and they carefully made their way across the plank onto the other ship. Harry looked at it appraisingly. It was much bigger than his own coastal barge, and quite intimidating, if he was being honest. It was a streamlined ship, clearly meant for ocean travel, speed…and war. The black lines of the ship were unbroken, except for the elaborate script at the front, where the words “It is what it is” were painted in gold, and by the cannons mounted above the water line. He turned back and watched as the rest of the crew made their way over the plank, the rear guard executing the passage backwards, swords drawn. The plank was removed, and the two ships slowly began to separate. 

Liam had risen, and made his way to the railing, his eyes burning in anger as he watched them move away. Blood was still dripping from his nose, his arms still bound behind him.

“Tell your queen,” Louis shouted, “I’ll send a messenger. We’ll keep your princeling nice and safe, and for the right price, we’ll return him, though it might cost more to have him…undamaged.” 

Liam glared and then nodded once, sharply. His eyes met Harry’s, and he called out, “Harry. We will find you. Don’t despair.”

As the distance between the two ships increased, there was a sudden scuffle of movement at the end of the barge, and then an agonized shout of “Harry! Harry!” Using his shoulders, Harry shoved his way through the crowd and ran to the railing. Niall was there, shouting. He’d managed to get his hands in front him, and was frantically rubbing the bonds against a metal cleat on the deck. The ropes parted and Niall vaulted himself up onto the railing.

“NO!” Harry shouted helplessly, as the distance increased between the boats, “No, Niall! Don’t!” 

But it was too late - Niall had thrown himself into the water.

A gust of wind pushed the Sparrow farther away, and Harry watched Niall flounder in the waves. “Help him!” he screamed out, searching frantically for something, anything, to come to Niall’s aid. “Please! He’s not a strong swimmer! He’ll drown!” He met resistance, until his desperate eyes met Captain Tomlinson’s, “Please! He’s my best friend!” He turned back to the water - Niall was still there, still struggling, but clearly the waves were overwhelming him. “Niall” he screamed again, “Niall!”

There was sudden movement behind him. “Oh for god’s sake, NIALL!” Harry heard Louis exclaim, and then Louis was shoving past him, and exasperatedly diving into the water, which Harry hadn’t even known was possible. Louis swam with swift, sure strokes, to where Niall was now floating limply, and Harry shuddered, knowing how quickly the sea could overwhelm a man. “No,” he whispered, and then felt it, the lightening in his veins. There would be no choice for him but to spend his power here, he knew. The strength of his love for his friend wouldn’t allow him to do anything but expend every last ounce of strength he had to save him. “Untie me!” he shouted suddenly, “Please, I can help him.” But no one moved.

By now, Louis had dragged Niall’s unresisting body down to a platform at the back of the boat. Harry felt someone grab for him as he ran, and stopped, frustrated by the ladder and his bound hands. Louis had half-raised Niall onto the platform, and was climbing out the water himself. “Please!” Harry shouted again, “Captain! Tell them to cut my bonds, I must help him!” He knew he had no authority here, no power, but the raw plea came again as his voice broke, “Please, Louis.”

Louis raised his head, and his eyes, now red-rimmed from the salt water, met Harry’s. There was a moment of utter stillness between them, and then Louis’s gaze shifted. With his nod, Harry felt a blade slide between his wrists and the bonds tying him fell to the deck. Ignoring the pain in his wrists, he swarmed down the ladder, stumbling in his eagerness to get to his friend’s side. 

“Harry…Prince.” said Louis kindly, “there’s nought you can do, lad.” As Harry knelt down besides Niall’s body, noting the lack of chest movements, the blue tinge to his lips, he felt Louis’s gentle touch to his back. “No” he hissed, feeling the power rise in his veins. “You don’t understand.”

He laid his hands on Nail’s unresponsive chest, and felt it, that spark that told him he wasn’t too late. “Oh thank god,” he whispered, and then bent his head and went to work, softly chanting the words he needed. It was not a spell, exactly, that wasn’t how magic worked, but rather the focus that allowed him to channel his power. He had never fully understood it, how it worked. Different wizards had tried to describe it. Some saw lights moving through the patient, some smelled different smells both foul and fair. For Harry, it was like a song, the melody hovering just on the edge of his awareness, yet still familiar. He also felt it like sparks in his mind and lightening in his veins. The more power the work required, the more it hurt. Harry felt the pain crushing down as he focused on Niall, whispering, “c’mon Niall, don’t leave me. Please, come back, I know you’re there.” As the pain intensified, he groaned, long and low. Beside him, Louis was still, clearly aware now that something extraordinary was happening. At his moan, Louis turned to stare at him, with something akin to awe on his face. In that moment, Harry felt the thump of Nail’s heart begin again steady and reassuring, and as he rolled to his side and began coughing out sea water, Harry felt his vision start to go dark. As the pain finally overwhelmed him, he felt himself slump down to the deck, and he heard Louis whisper, “Oh my god, you’re a wizard, Harry.”


	2. The Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis's POV - what happens while Harry is sleeping.
> 
> As always - please leave a kudos or a comment if you're enjoying this! Any and all constructive feedback is welcome too!

Louis watched Harry slide down the deck, frozen in awe at the power he’d just witnessed. This was. Whoa, this was something else. He’d heard rumor of wizardry, of course, but never thought he’d witness such an act. He’d seen the rictus of pain as Harry had fallen, and heard the low moan that had all but broken his heart, the agony in it so real. They called it a gift, the healing gift, but all a sudden, he wasn’t so sure how much of a gift it truly was. He turned and stared, eyes wide, at the boy Harry had called Niall, now curled in on himself, coughing and retching up sea-water. He’d been gone, Louis was sure of it. He’d pulled bodies from the sea before, and he knew the look of an empty shell - but now. Here he was, very clearly alive. Louis’s mind spun frantically for a moment, trying to make sense of what he’d seen, and then a chill shook him as he thought, “they’ll be frantic to get him back” and wondered, for the first (but not the last) time if he had perhaps made a mistake in his impulsive decision to bring Harry, _Prince Harry_ , he reminded himself, on board.

He started as he heard Zayn’s shouts, and the other man made his way down the ladder and hurried to where Louis knelt between the two prone men.

“Louis, what happened?”

Louis shook his head, “Um, Harry. He…” his voice trailed off as he wondered how even to begin to describe the events of the last few moments. “Zayn, this boy, he was gone, I’m sure of it, and Harry, he… _healed_ him, Zayn.” The two men turned as one to stare at Harry, and then Louis shook himself. Okay, this was new and unwanted information, but there wasn’t time. While he’d been witnessing a miracle, the Rogue’s enormous sails had caught the wind, and they’d left the Sparrow disappearing in the distance. Louis’s custom was to leave survivors bound, but only loosely, so that they would be able to save themselves. He was only interested in the material gain of privateering, he had no interest in unnecessary bloodshed, though his fierce skill with a blade in battle had earned him, and the crew of the Rogue, a reputation for danger in the face of resistance. While becoming a pirate was not the dream he’d held, circumstances beyond his control had led him to that place, and he was nothing, if not determined to be the best in any endeavor to which he set his mind. If pirating was his path, then by god, he would be a damn good one. He knew, though, that the Sparrow could not follow where they were going, and assumed Liam would be smart enough to lead his ship, and his crew, down to the Southern city to regroup. While they sailed first east, Louis rose to his feet, calculating distances and destinations and then nodding once to himself, turned to Zayn. 

“Zayn, have Harry taken to my cabin. If what I’ve heard is correct, he may be…incapacitated for some time after that expenditure of power, and we really can’t have him in the crew’s general quarters.”

Zayn snorted in agreement at that, and then called up the ladder to Paul, to help him. Between the two of them, they managed to wrestle Harry’s unconscious body up the ladder, and Louis knew he could trust them to get the lad settled. He turned to Niall, who seemed to be recovering, and was now turning to look up at him with a look of fury, but did not seem inclined to attack at this point.

“Niall, was it?” Louis inquired smoothly, and wondered for a moment at the relationship between the two young men, that one would come so close as to sacrifice his own life in his attempt to get to the other.

Niall’s eyes continued to blaze up at him, red-rimmed and blue as the sea in his pale face, and then nodded, once. “What have you done to Harry?”

Louis widened his eyes in mock-offense and said “Well, I’ve done nothing to him, lad, it’s more what he’s done to himself…for you.”

Niall stared in confusion, and Louis continued, “He pulled you back from beyond the veil, mate. You were…gone, but he wouldn’t let you go. Now he’s out like a stone himself.”

Niall cursed as he attempted to leap to his feet, and stopped, bent over with hands on his knees, gasping. Louis reached out a hand to steady him, and helped him rise fully. saying “How long will he be out?”

At this, Niall looked surprised and opened his mouth as if to query Louis’s knowledge of the witchcraft he’d witnessed, but then just said, “Depending on how much…power this took, it could be a while.”

Louis frowned. He could only assume that raising a man from the dead would require a lot of power. Damn, this might put a complication in his hopes to interrogate Harry, in order to figure out the best sum to ask for. And, he wondered, how exactly did one keep a man alive who seemed almost as close to death as the man he’d saved? Niall saved him the inquiry, stating “Take me to him. I know what he needs.” Louis quirked one eyebrow at the demand, but decided quickly it was in his own best interest to comply. He nodded, and indicated that Niall should precede him up the ladder to the main deck. He would get their guests settled, and then consult with Zayn before making a further decision. For now, though he needed to communicate to Jade, the ship’s navigator, their new destination.

Several hours later, Louis pushed back from the table in the main dining hall, and nodded to Perrie, the ship’s chef. “That was lovely, Pez. It never fails to astound me what you can do.” Perrie grinned her thanks, and then said, “So, Cap, where are we headed? I didn’t get a chance to ask in all of the excitement.”

Realizing that all of the crew must have the same question, Louis nodded at Perrie, and called out, “Oi oi, everyone! Listen up!” The lively conversation that had been going on around him stilled, and he rose to his feet.

“First, before anything, I must congratulate you all on another successful raid! No lives lost, and from my first view, we’ve done very well indeed.” A cheer rose up at this, and Louis continued, “It’s going to take us a few days to catalog and value it all, but shares will be given at next All Hands Meeting. And now.” His countenance sobered and he glanced around. “As you all now, we’ve added a couple of…guests for the time being. And,” his tone hardened, “they are to be treated as such, honored guests, no teasing, no sniping, no harassing, got it?” Everyone nodded, and Louis overheard Jesy murmur to Perrie, “That blonde lad was a bit easy on the eyes, eh? Wondered if he’d mind a bit of harassing?!” The two women snickered and then quickly settled down under Louis’s annoyed glance. 

Louis had a “no secrets” policy with his crew. They’d all been with him for years, and were his family. It wasn’t a large ship, so the total complement was about 30 members. They knew him well, and trusted him completely. They knew that he’d not chosen this life, but had made the best with what fate had left him with, and would protect them with his life.  They would, and had, more than once, done the same for him. “I’m sure you all know who are guests are?” At that, eyes dropped, and he saw nods. “For now, we’re heading to the Devon Isles.” At that, an excited murmured passed around the room. The Devon Isles were a series of islands off the east coast of the kingdom, about a week’s sail from their current location, and far enough out that the law of the land did not hold. It was a community of tough men and women, and for the right price, anything could be acquired. _Especially_ , thought Louis to himself, _silence_. The Rogue and her crew were well-known and respected there, and in recent years, the Isles had become a winter stopping over point for them, when the winter storms in the North slowed the travel of merchants to the south.It was not a safe community, by any means, and the strength of your arm might be the only thing that would earn you the respect of the men and women who made their homes there, but it was the safest place for the Rogue, and her captain, until he could figure out the next stage in his plan. 

After dinner, Louis headed to his cabin, deciding it was time to confront their passengers on their current circumstances. As he approached the door, he could hear a soft voice that appeared to be…singing? _How odd_ , Louis mused, and opened the door, nodding to Paul, who he’d left on guard.

There was a sudden movement as Niall leapt to his feet. He’d been sitting on the edge of Louis’s, and appeared to have been running a cool cloth over the sleeping prince’s face. Louis opened his mouth to speak, but Niall interrupted him. 

“I need broth, meat or chicken. He can’t eat in this state, but I’ll be able to get liquids into him. If he only gets water, he might starve. I can talk to your cook and tell them how to prepare it.” Louis shook his head. He may have instructed the crew to treat these two like guests, but he was damned if he would be ordered around on his own ship. “I’ll think about that, lad.” 

Niall’s gaze hardened. “You need him alive. Not just alive, but well. Queen Anne…will not take kindly to the mistreatment of her son.”

Louis flicked this thought away impatiently. “Aye, lad, fine. Tomorrow you can consult with Perrie. She’ll set you straight as to what we have available. How long will he be like this?”

“I don’t know. If what you say was true, that I was…” the younger man gulped and paled for a moment, “truly that far gone, well. Weeks, perhaps.”  He turned and his gaze softened to an exasperated affection as he looked at the prince. “Daft lad.”  Niall turned to face Louis again, and squared his shoulders as he took a deep breath. “What are you going to do to us?”

“Do to you? Nothing, lad. We’ll keep you safe and fed. We’ll be spending some time in the Devon Isles until your master sees fit to wake up, and then we’ll see about getting you both home.” 

At the name of their destination, Niall appeared to blanch and then nodded. “That would be a place you would fit in, I suppose.” Louis’s mouth tightened for a moment and then he nodded carelessly. 

“There is,” he said, “a certain comfort in knowing that we’ll be outside the reach of your Royal guard.” Niall’s eyes dropped for a moment, and a look as if to say _I wouldn’t be too sure about that_ crossed his face, but he held his tongue. 

“Once your master wakes, then we’ll be in touch with the Queen.”

As Louis grabbed some nightclothes from the chest at the foot of the bed, Niall said, “He’s not, you know.”   


“Not what?”  
  
“Not my master.” Niall eyes looked soft. “He’s my friend. I’m the Court Bard, Captain. I have no master.” At that Louis’s own eyes widened in surprise. Court bard? “That’s a lofty perch for such a young man, lad.” Court bards were held in highest esteem, as more than one ruler had learned the price for pissing off a person with the talent to create memorable tunes at their expense. It was also a free position, considered equal to the highest lords of the land. The kingdom valued their talented citizens, and rewarded them well. This was no valet, then, or deck hand. Louis reassessed the young man standing in front of him. Louis assumed he wouldn’t be much of a fighter with a blade, or fist, but realized that if he didn’t make sure this man was on his side, he could cause tremendous problems in the crew, as bards were chosen as much for the charisma and ability to unite people as they were for the talent. A thought crossed his mind, “Just…your friend? From the way you leapt into that water, I thought, perhaps…a lover, unwilling to be left behind?”

Louis gauged Niall’s reaction, wondering if he’d offended the other man, but Niall only shook his head and smiled. “No, not my lover, though…” a memory seemed to cross his mind and he snickered for a moment, and Louis found his own mouth rising in accord, not even knowing the joke. There was just something about Niall’s laugh that begged the listener to join in. Niall seemed to recollect where he was, and his laughter stilled, and he said only, “No. Just my dear friend, like a brother to me.”

Louis was relieved to here no anger or offense in Nail’s tone. He wasn’t sure what the atmosphere at the Castle was like, in regards to those who chose to love, or lay with, their own gender. Where he’d grown up…he shook his head, banishing those memories. This meant Niall would be less likely to be shocked by some of the more…unconventional arrangements found on-board the Rogue.

“Well. We have about a week’s sail ahead of us, depending on the winds. If I can have your word that you won’t cause trouble, I’ll let you out of here. You are welcome to stay here with the Prince, but we have others who can sit with him as well. You can eat with the crew, and if you have any needs, you can ask Zayn, my first mate. I’ll introduce you tomorrow.”

As Louis made to leave, he felt a hand on his arm.  Niall cleared his throat uncomfortably, and then said, “I…that is far more generous than you have any obligation. I understand that we’re your prisoners here. And…” his gaze held steady, “I also understand that I have you to thank.” Louis looked surprised.

“Thank? For what, lad?”

“For my life. It was you, wasn’t it, who pulled me out of the ocean.” There was no question here, just a simple statement.

Louis shrugged, a bit uncomfortable, “Well, yes. How did you know?”  


“It was you or Harry, Captain, and Harry’s not that strong of a swimmer. He hates deep water. He fell off the barge once, when he was 14, and almost drowned. Liam saved his life, but he’s been wary about deep water ever since.”

Louis just nodded, and headed out. It looked like he’d be sleeping with the crew for the foreseeable future.

8 days later, the Rogue pulled into the main port of the Devon Isles. A cheer went up from the crew as a dinghy was dispatched to the Port Master. They waited impatiently until Zayn and Paul returned, and gave Jade the instructions on where to drop anchor. They were in luck, a slip was available on one of the long docks, and the Rogue was quickly maneuvered into position, and secured. Louis grinned to himself. This would make things much easier, having direct dock access as opposed to having to ferry the crew two and from the ship if there’d been nothing available.He trusted that Zayn was already working on the leave and guard rotation schedules, and that he could be trusted to make sure those most in need of…relief would get it quickly. Even before the battle with the Sparrow, it had been almost 3 months at sea, with only brief stops at ports to refill water and stores. They hadn’t had an extended stay anywhere for quite some time. As home to travelers, pirates, and other unsavory types, the Devon Isles offered any form of entertainment one’s heart desired, for a price. Louis had spent the last two days calculating shares of the loot from their different adventures, and had made generous payments to all crew who were interested in seeking entertainment. 

Louis himself was in no hurry to depart ship, however. He knew the next few days would involve restocking the ship, contracting with workers for necessary repairs, and other such work. He was more than happy to have the ship’s crew on light duty, but that would not hold true for the Captain. He made his way to deck, and watched as the first round of revelers made their way down the gangplank and headed into the town.He stretched his back. A week of sleeping in a hammock in the crew’s quarters had left his back aching, and him longing for his own bed. His thoughts turned to the current occupants of his cabin and he pondered the events of the last week.

Harry was still unconscious.Louis had fretted over this, until Niall reassured him, stating “This is typical, Lou, he’s always out for a while.” They had rapidly progressed from Niall calling him Captain, to first names, to nicknames. Louis still wasn’t quite sure how that had happened, to be honest. Niall was just that sort of soul. He’d immediately charmed the entire crew, with his easy laughter and generous smiles, not to mention the music he’d shared with them every night after dinner. He and Louis had settled into an odd respect and friendship, which was very peculiar, Louis had mused to himself more than once, given that Niall and Harry were, technically, their prisoners. It was hard to think of Niall as such, though, when he was strumming one of the crew member’s guitars and sharing songs.

Harry, though. Louis found his thoughts straying to the curly-haired prince more often than he liked. He stopped in every morning and evening to check in on him, and found he had trouble tearing his gaze from Harry’s soft cheeks and pillowy lips. His eyes, however, remained stubbornly closed, although all Louis had to do was close his own and recall that electric moment between them when Harry had pleaded to be released from his bonds, to save his friend’s life. 

Niall spent most of his time with Harry during the day, and then another crew member, hand selected by Louis, would sit with him while Niall joined the crew for dinner. Perrie had made a nutrient-rich broth for him, and Niall assured Louis that this would be sufficient to keep Harry alive, though he would have definite recovery of strength needed when he awoke. As of yet, there was no indication that this would happen any time soon. After dinner and music, Louis would often come back to his cabin with Niall, and spend time sitting and talking. Niall shared freely his thoughts and insights about the court, about Queen Anne, and the possibility of her actually paying a ransom. 

“To be honest, mate,” he’d finally said the night before pulling into port, “I don’t know what she’ll do. She’s always talked a hard line about this, but she adores her children. And you’re out of luck with me, mate, there’s no money in my family, and I’ve been gone too long, I don't think they'd pay it anyway.” He’d cackled a bit at that, and Louis had laughed unwillingly as well, wondering again if he might have made a terrible mistake. His impulsive behavior had landed him in hot water more than once, but Louis was beginning to think this might be a tougher situation to resolve than he'd first assumed.

The other topic of conversation that arose frequently was that of Lord Liam Payne, captain of Harry’s Royal Guard, and apparently the 3rd in this unlikely band of brothers. From what Niall said, he himself was a carefree sort. Bards were held in such high esteem, and he was the Court Bard, so he had very few cares, other than the demands of his music. Liam, from Niall’s words, was a more solemn fellow - serious and responsible. While he was a Lord of the Realm, his family’s holdings had fallen on hard times, and as a younger son, he’d needed a way to earn a living. “Oh, Harry would have given him everything, but that’s not Liam, you know?” Niall had mused one evening. “He’s determined to make his own way, to not be beholden to anyone. It was hard on all of us when he spent those two years in Diacun, training, but he was determined that no one would be able to say he hadn’t earned his captaincy. And he’s bloody good at it. Suspicious as all hell, since he came back.” 

Louis had filed away all of this away, waiting for the right time to confront Zayn.  He had, he believed, figured out the timeline of when Zayn and Liam had connected in Diacun. 4 years ago, when they’d been anchored off-shore from the port city, Zayn had fallen from the rigging and broken his legs, badly. Terrified, Louis had taken him to the court hospital. A judicious application of funds had gotten Zayn the best care, but it wasn’t safe for the Rogue to stay, and with heartbreak, at Zayn’s urging, Louis had left Zayn behind. As far as Louis could tell, this would have been about a year into Liam’s training. It had taken Zayn months to heal even to the point where he could walk. He’d had to work tirelessly to regain his strength and flexibility, and Louis knew his legs even now still pained him at times. Liam’s training had included some basic medic and rehab care, and Louis knew they’d met at the hospital, with Liam assisting in Zayn’s care. This hospital was under the impression that Zayn was the black sheep son from a landed family up north (not that far from the truth, Louis thought), and as such, was a suitable consort for Liam. Zayn’s few letters had been full of the lad, and it was clear to Louis that Zayn had fallen deeply in love with the other man, but when they’d finally made their way back to retrieve Zayn, 9 months later, Louis had been shocked by his appearance. All that Zayn would say was, “I told him I was a sailor, Lou, and he…he said he could not betray his friend who needed him. That he could not give all that up for love.” It had taken Zayn months to recover, and even now he would have moments of melancholy, during which the entire crew knew it was best simply to stay away from him.

After Zayn had clearly been avoiding him for a few days, an impressive feat on a small ship, Louis had to admit, Louis had cornered him late one evening and confronted him. A judicious application of rum had Zayn finally spilling the whole story. They’d talked until the sunrise, with Zayn finally opening up about how quickly he and Liam had fallen in love, the connection Zayn had felt with him that had been unlike any he’d ever experienced, and how he’d been left hollowed and empty when Liam had refused to come with him to the Rogue. Zayn wept as he described the despair he felt when he realized that he couldn’t fight for his love, because Liam stood for law and order, and Zayn knew he could never love a pirate. When Zayn began waxing rhapsodically about their passionate and tender love-making, Louis had trundled him off to bed, feeling that he’d been handed a glimpse into his dearest friend’s life and heart that he’d only suspected might be there.

Louis knew that Zayn would be spending his evenings at  Brother Simon’s tavern, known for dice and poker. It was as clean an establishment as any in the Isles, but not where one would go to seek entertainment of a different sort. If you wanted music and dancing, you headed to the Summer Shack, and if you wanted companionship, you sought out McGee’s establishment. Louis himself, on the rare nights he went into the town, always went to the Summer, and he thought with a grin to himself, that Niall might enjoy the shows there. They were surprisingly good for a backwater town, and Louis, even after knowing Niall only a week, knew that he was no snob.

Now, Louis stood on the deck as the sun set to the west, watching half of his crew make their way into the town, calling back jests to those left behind to stand guard. Even though they were known and respected in the town, Louis was not foolish enough to leave the ship empty or unguarded. He himself was slated for the 2nd watch, and he wondered if he should go try and catch a nap before his shift. As he stood at the railing, he felt a presence beside him, and turned to see Niall, watching the others go. 

“I know that technically you are our…” he grimaced, surprised at how much he disliked the reminder, “our prisoners, but I will not demand you stay on-board. I ask only that you wait to go into town for a night where Zayn or I can go with you. These are rough places, Niall, and I would not have you in danger if I can help it.”

Niall nodded, looking wistful. “I understand, Lou.” he said quietly. “It’s just been a while, and I would love a good pint.” 

At that moment, Zayn moved towards them. “You would be welcome to join me tonight, if you’d like.” he offered. “I’ll be going to the public laundry, then the bathhouse, and then for some gaming. It won’t be a late night, I’ve got 2nd watch as well, but I’m longing for a hot bath!” Niall’s eyes lit up. 

“Aye, mate, that’d be ace!” Louis had allowed Niall, with Zayn’s scoffs of “softy!” ringing in his ears, to go through the spoils from the Sparrow, and Niall had pulled out clothes for himself and Harry, as well as a few of their personal effects, so he’d had clean clothes, but after more than a week on the ship, Louis knew they were all feeling a bit less than clean. The port town had a wonderful bath house located on a natural hot spring that Louis himself loved, and was very much looking forward to patronizing tomorrow. Zayn and Niall turned to Louis, who nodded. “It’ll be quiet here, so I’ll sit with Harry until 2nd watch. Don’t drink too much, Zayn!” He watched as the two men gathered their things, and headed off.

That first evening in the Isles passed slowly. Louis sat in his cabin, and eyed his bed longingly, but felt it was, sadly, not appropriate for him to stretch out next to the prince of the land while he was unconscious. He felt oddly drawn to the man, even in his stillness, and found his gaze straying to Harry’s face again and again, although he could not explain why. It was hard to reconcile the man who’d burned with power and passion as he’d fought to save his friend, or even the man who’d raised his chin in defiance to Louis, with this still and pale shape. 

Over the next few days, Zayn and Louis spent hours holed up in the ship’s office, talking about their next step. They decided that they wouldn’t send an emissary to the queen until Harry woke up. With any luck, Niall would be able to convince him to talk with them openly about their prospects, but Louis was feeling less and less good about the situation. He hadn’t shared with Niall the full details of their circumstances, and why they needed this score. He knew that once they had a full plan, Zayn would go, heading first to Diacun to see what news he could gather there, and then, if necessary, he’d make his way north to the Capitol to parlay with the Queen. Until Harry woke, though, they decided to hold off on action, and as far as Louis could tell, Harry was no closer to waking now than he’d been when he collapsed. It was not, Louis admitted to himself in the small hours of the morning when he couldn't sleep, a very good plan, but it was all the plan he had.

Over the next few days, they fell into their anchored routine. The crew worked on half-duty while hired workers from the town swarmed the ship repairing the damage inflicted by 3 months at sea. Louis spent his days negotiating with goods traders to restock their stores in anticipation of more journeying. He, Zayn and Niall fell into a routine most evenings, after dinner, of going to the pub, either for some games or some music and a pint or two. Louis had mentioned the delights of McGee’s, but Niall had waved him off with a sigh, “No, Lou, as long as things are…you know, this way, I’m not really in the mood. Don’t let me stop you, though.” At that, Zayn snorted, though he quickly went silent as Louis glared at him, Niall looking curiously at the both of them. “Uh, no,” Louis said, “I’m fine.”

As the days passed, Louis felt his anxiety mounting, longing for something to happen. They’d settled into a routine, and were getting reports that the winter storms were the worst they’d been in several years. Louis believed it, based on the rough tides they were experiencing in port. If Harry didn’t wake up soon, he thought to himself, they might be grounded here for the next few months until things cleared up and travel was safe again. He found himself less and less eager to seek out the noise and chaos of the pubs, preferring to spend his evenings on Harry duty, as they called. He waved Zayn and Niall off, night after night, before retiring to his own cabin. He found himself talking softly to Harry as the nights wore on, about everything and nothing, the fight Jesy and Jade had had when Niall had kindly rejected them when they invited him to share their bed, the way he thought the sails craftsmen might be cheating him, his worries about Zayn who seemed to have been set back to the same level of sadness he’d experienced right after he’d left Liam, and Liam had left him. At the back of his mind throughout all these conversations was the burning questions, when would Harry wake up?

Niall had prepared Louis for what to expect. That Harry might wake a few times briefly, confused and disoriented, but that it generally only took him a day or so to come back to himself, although after so long asleep, he would be shockingly weak and need significant help to recover. Niall was confident, though, that with good food and exercise, Harry could get himself back into shape within a few weeks. Louis wondered aloud why Harry’s body didn’t simply heal itself and Niall had shrugged. “I don’t know, mate, believe me, we’ve all wondered that! Harry finds it very annoying. Other than the first time…” Niall’s voice trailed off when he realized that Zayn and Louis didn’t know the story.

“When Harry was 8, he was struck by lightening. Liam was there, he says he remembers it clearly. They were on a picnic and a sudden storm blew up and BOOM. Liam said it seemed like forever, they thought he was dead.” His voice softened as he continued, “He was dead. The court physician testified, he had no heartbeat, and it was too long, you know? But then, somehow, his heart started again, and he started breathing.” Louis and Zayn stared at Niall with rapt attention. “They think that his power was somehow turned on from that, that it managed to heal him and keep him alive, but that’s the last time it did, as far as Harry knows. It saved his life. He was asleep for weeks after that, and then, when he’d come back, one day he just…he started healing. I was there for that, still remember it like it was yesterday. We were playing in the courtyard, and a bird hit the window and fell, and he just…ran over to it. I remember that look on his face as he held that poor thing, and all of a sudden it just…” Niall’s eyes are wide and awed as he remembers, “it flew. After that, they had to call in scholars from all over the kingdom to figure it out. So yeah, he can heal other creatures, but not himself. He broke his wrist when he was 12, and was right narked that he couldn’t heal himself!” Zayn and Louis looked at each other in amazement. 

It was midday, and Louis was about to head down to the dining room when he heard his name being shouted. “LOU! LOUIS!! COME HERE!” He ran out and found Niall waving his arms in excitement. 

Harry was awake.


	3. The Waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV - coming back to the world

Harry rose into conscious as if breaking through the surface of water. He slowly opened his eyes, staring in confusion at the unfamiliar ceiling. He became aware of someone saying his name over and over again, and slowly turned his head, his own confused green eyes meeting Niall’s blue, the relief in them palpable. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Niall cuffed Harry upside the head.

“Hey…” Harry’s voice cracked from disuse. “What the hell, Niall, what was that for?” He continued to gaze around the room, a ship’s cabin if he didn’t miss his guess, but where they might be, and who’s ship, remained a mystery. It was not his cabin from the Sparrow, and he blinked, trying to remember.

“That,” said Niall, “was for spending all your strength to bring me back, you fucker.”

And with that, Harry drew a deep breath, as the memories rolled over him. The battle. The rage in Liam’s eyes as blood rolled down his face. The terror consuming Harry as he watched Niall in the water, and the fierce draw of his power. And…”Tomlinson.” he breathed. “The pirate. Where is he?”

“Right here, Harry.” a soft voice to Harry’s right said, and, turning his head, he watched Louis move to the side of the bed, and then saw him falter as the rage blazed in Harry’s eyes. “Err, Prince.”

“Where the hell are we?” hissed Harry, trying to sit up. He fell back, gasping as he realized how truly weakened he was. “Niall, what is going on? How long…”

“It’s been weeks, Harry.” Niall said somberly. “I guess I was far gone.” He reached over to Harry and grasped his arm, and then leaned down and hugged him, murmuring into his ear, “Thank you, Harry, thank god for you. You shouldn’t have, but thank god you did.” Niall sat back up. “Um, Harry. There’s a lot to tell you. Maybe I’ll just let Lou here explain.”

Harry lay back on the pillows, baffled. So, he’d saved Niall, at the expense of his own strength. He wasn’t sure he’d ever pulled someone back from so far before. But why were they still on the pirate ship, if it’d been so long? And, the affection in Niall’s voice as he’d called the pirate captain…Lou? Nicknames? “Yes, that might be good. Just what the hell is going on?” 

“Well,” the pirate captain moved forward again and carefully sat himself at the foot of the bed, making sure not to jostle Harry. Harry frowned at the courtesy, trying to reconcile this quiet and cautious man with the bold captain who’d taken his ship. “First, we’re anchored in the Devon Isles.” Harry frowned at that, but said nothing. “It took 8 days of sailing from the capture of your barge, and we’ve been anchored here for 3 weeks. So, it’s been…”

“Just over a month…” Harry breathed, shocked. Yes, healing often took him under, but for that long? He stared, stricken, at Niall, understanding how close to gone he’d truly been. 

Louis continued, “While you’ve been asleep, your man Niall here’s been charming the crew,” Harry rolled his eyes at that, completely unsurprised, “teaching us all the latest court tunes,” Harry’s eyes widened as he realized that Niall had told Louis who he was, and his role at court, “and spending many an evening on land with Zayn at the pubs.”

“Not to mention that bath house,” Niall interrupted, “Harry, once you’re on your feet, mate, you have to go, it’s ace! Built on a natural hot spring, it’ll do your muscles good as you recover.” 

At that, Harry grimaced, knowing this recovery was going to be tough, as this was the longest he’d ever been under. Even a two-week time under had left him as weak as a baby kitten, and he complained bitterly at every last moment he’d had to spend in physical recovery. He lifted his arm experimentally, and groaned silently at the effort required. 

Louis cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “…and of course, there’s the slight matter of the fact that you are the prince of the realm, and, well, we can’t actually keep you here forever, but we can’t just let you go.”  “Why not?” Harry demanded hotly, trying to sit up and then collapsing back on the bed, “if you let me go, I could see to a reward…” His heart sank as Louis shook his head. 

“I’m the one who took you in the first place, Har..Prince. There’ll be no reward for letting you go, only the hangman’s noose. No, I need to figure out a way to receive ransom, and a substantial one at that, without hanging for it! Then we’ll let you and your fun friend here off to live your lives, and we’ll be on our merry way.”

Harry glared at him. “But why? Why on earth do you need so much?” He shook his head in contempt, “greed, it’s disgusting.” At that Louis paled, opened his mouth as if to speak and then shook his head, speaking coldly.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand the needs I have, Harry.” He paused and then continued. “Niall and I have come to an agreement. He’s not been under guard, been given free range of the ship, and agreed not to go onto land without Zayn or myself. In exchange for that freedom, he agreed not to incite mutiny among my crew, nor try to escape. He’s proved my trust in him. He told me that you’ll need much work to get yourself back into working order after such a long sleep. We’ve had some luck, in that it sounds like the winter storms closer to the coast have been terrible. We were the last ship to come to port, and it’s been quiet since then, so we have another month before things ease up and we can send a scout to Diacun to scope out the situation there. That gives you some time to work on your strength, and us to finalize a plan of transfer.” Louis stood, and moved toward the door. “I’ll offer you the same agreement, Prince. If you give me your word you’ll not try to incite problems with my crew, or try to escape, I’ll give you the freedom of the ship, and supervised visits on-land. Escape won’t do you any good, anyway, your honor, as there’s no where to go but the town, and it’s a rough place. I don’t think you’d last long. So.” His blue eyes caught Harry’s and held, “do I have your word?”   
 Harry broke his gaze, “Yes. I give you my word.” 

“I’ll leave you to your rest, then. And Harry?” His eyes crinkled as he grinned suddenly, “Please work hard on your recovery. I’ve been missing my bed.” With that, he walked out, leaving Harry oddly breathless and wondering why his name sounded so familiar on the man’s lips, closing the door softly behind him.

Over the next several days, Harry began focusing on his physical recovery. He rarely saw much of Louis, Captain Tomlinson he reminded himself. At first, simply standing took all of his energy and strength, but as he was able to start eating, his strength began to reemerge, so that he could begin walking, first just small shaky steps around the cabin, Louis’s cabin, and then finally, he felt strong enough to venture out onto the deck. 

Each time he encountered the captain, he was left baffled. There was something about Louis’s voice that was strangely familiar, and he found himself oddly unsurprised by much of the information he was learning about life on board the Rogue, as if somehow he’d already known it. He knew that he should be furious with Louis, both for the sacking of his ship, and of course, the kidnapping of his own self, and he was. However, there was more than just the anger. While he was out on deck, often shivering in the chill winter air, he’d see Louis walking purposefully from one part of the ship to another, calling out to his crew mates, or laughing with Zane, and he found his eyes drawn to the small and strong figure more than he ever would have admitted. One afternoon, as they rested on the deck after another strenuous workout, he finally voiced to Niall the confusing sense of familiarity that he held.

“Oh, that’s probably because he spent weeks sitting at your side, talking to you.” said Niall confidently. 

Harry gaped at him. “Err, what?” he said? He figured he must have misheard Niall.

“Oh yeah,” said Niall nonchalantly, munching on a sandwich he’d managed to cadge from Perrie, “all those weeks you were asleep. After dinner, he’d come to the cabin, and tell me to go hang out with the crew, or go onto land with Zaynie for a pint,” Zaynie? Harry murmured to himself. “Speaking of which, you’re getting much stronger, do you think you’d be up for a trip into the bathhouse? Because, to be honest, mate, you….really kind of reek.”

“Heeeey!” Harry said, mock offended, because honestly, Niall had a point, and a bath sounded, well, WONDERFUL. “But wait, Niall, what do you mean? Talking to me?” and as he said this, he could almost hear the sound of Louis’s voice murmuring in his ear.

Niall sighed. “Yes. Like I said, I was with you during the day, and Louis’d take over in the evenings, so I could see something other than your ugly mug!” As Harry attempted to cuff him upside the head, Niall cackled with laughter, and rolled on top of him, easily pinning him down, and proceeding to tickle him mercilessly until Harry was shrieking with laughter. 

“Err,” said a voice hesitantly, “sorry to interrupt, lads…”   
Harry shoved Niall off to the side, thrilled to feel his muscles beginning to respond more easily, and squinted into the sun into Zayn’s face. He hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know the man, though given his memories of Liam’s anger, he had to admit he hadn’t been trying either. He felt his smile fade and said cooly, “Yes?” He knew that while he generally was an open and affectionate man, when someone hurt a person he loved, he was fully capable of freezing that person out.

Zayn looked at him steadily for a moment, and even Harry had to admit the man was exceptionally beautiful. “Louis was wondering if Harry was well enough to take a trip into town tonight.”

Niall grinned, not harboring the same reservations as Harry. “Yeah, mate, we were just talking about that! I told Hazza here,” he elbowed Harry who squawked and elbowed him back, “that he really really needs a clean up!”

“Well, if you…gentleman are amenable,” Zayn continued as Niall snorted, “Louis suggested that we go in at sundown. We can grab a bite at the Summer and then spend the evening at the bath house. He has second watch so he needs to be back early, Paul’s on duty until then. We can stay out later if we want.”

Niall looked at Harry for confirmation and when he nodded, said to Zayn, “that sounds great, mate, we’ll be ready.” In spite of himself, Harry felt his pulse leap in anticipation. It’d been a month and a half since he’d been off this ship, and he was ready for a change of scenery. 

Harry spent the rest of the day resting, knowing that even though he was improving, he did not have the stamina he’d once had, and the trip onto land was bound to tax him. He couldn’t help being excited, and was even more pleased when he realized that Niall had been able to salvage some of his favorite articles of clothing. He was pleased to find his heavy winter cloak, and favorite soft leather boots. He thought it over for a bit, and then decided to wear the loose pants and top he’d been favoring while working on his recovery, and to bring clothes to change into after the bath house. While he was fairly sure he’d be too tired to go out to the other pub — what had Niall called it? Brother Simon’s?— he also was excited to feel like he was beginning to get back to himself. As he heard the knock on the cabin door, he felt his heart lift, and decided to go with it. Even though the circumstances were not ideal, he had his best friend, and was about to go back into some form of society, even if it was quite different from what he used to.

On the way into town, he ended up walking next to Louis. They’d come to an uneasy sort of truce, but this was the first time they’d actually spent any length of time in each other’s company, while Harry was awake anyway. By unspoken agreement, they stayed away from the uncomfortable topic of their current circumstances, and Louis regaled Harry with tales about the places they were planning to visit. By the time they walked into the pub, Harry was breathless with laughter, his cheeks aching with the unexpected force of his smiles, and he couldn’t help but notice the sweep of Louis’s eyelashes against his cheekbones, and felt himself pressing back against the warmth of Louis’s palm against his lower back, as the older man guided him through the pub to the table in the back. He and Louis had fallen a bit behind Zayn and Niall, who were now both seated and waiting for them, and Harry did not miss the way Niall’s eyes glanced Louis’s hand on his back, and then leapt to Harry’s face before giving a small, knowing smile.

Over a surprisingly decent dinner, the laughter continued, and Harry was amazed to find that the four of them seemed to gel surprisingly well. The only awkward moment occurred when Niall mentioned something to Harry about the cooks “back home” and silence settled briefly over the table as they all remembered for a moment the difficulties that brought them together. Then Louis rose, and said, “I’ll settle the bill, and we should head over to the bath house.”

All four men were quiet as they walked the few blocks over to this bath house. Harry had to admit, he was excited about this. While they did have a rudimentary set up for baths on the Rogue, at best the water was lukewarm, and too often since he had awoken, Harry had to make do with salt water sponge baths. Outside of the southern city, there were hot springs and bath houses, and while he was not expecting luxury here, he was thrilled for the chance to get warm and total clean. However, when they walked into the building, his jaw dropped. The waiting area was warm and cozy, with a blazing fire in the large fireplace. There were cozy sofas and squashy armchairs scattered throughout the room, and off to the right he could see a small dining area, although the lights were down and it looked closed. There were no other customers in the waiting area, and the woman working the desk smiled at them as they approached.

“Cap’n Louis, Master Zayn, and of course, Master Niall. Good evening, sirs! How be you all this fine evening?” 

Louis moved forward, “Good evening, Yolanda. We’re quite well, just made a meal of Brother Simon’s finest cuisine, and we’re looking for the full experience tonight.” 

Her eyes brightened, and she nodded. “And who be your friend, Cap’n?”

Louis lounged against the counter top and drawled, “Oh Yolanda, he’s some spoiled boy from the mainland, don’t pay him any mind. I just want him to see what he’s been missing.”

Yolanda grinned at Harry and said, “Well, fine sir, you have quite a treat for you. We may be remote, here in the Devon Isles, but I promise you, there’s nothing like what we offer to be found on the mainland, not even in Diacun herself. If that’s all you know for bath houses, then you’ve got quite a night ahead of you! Now, Cap’n,” her attention returned to Louis before Harry could say a word and he grinned to himself, enjoying the unexpected anonymity. “It’s been a slow night, and I was actually planning to close up early…”

Louis smiled and said, “I have to be back for second watch, ‘Landa, so we won’t be too long.” He passed some coins over the counter to her, and she dropped them into the waiting drawer without counting them, and then swiftly pocketed the next coin that Louis passed over, without glancing at it.” She came out from behind the counter, and said, “if you’ll just follow me, gentlemen” as she headed through the door at the back of the room.

Harry looked around interestedly as they moved through the door. They were in a large comfortable sitting area, also with a blazing fire. The room opened into a long hallway, and there were various doors opening off on each side. Yolanda walked over to a cabinet and opened it, pulling out a stack of fluffy towels and folded robes. She pointed to the side of the room where there were several curtained stalls. “Do you need to me to walk your friend though it, Cap’n? You know the drill.”

Louis just smiled, and said, as he took the linens, “we know what to do, ‘Landa, thank you. We’ll take care of him.” His eyes met Harry’s, and Harry felt a shiver down his back, and turned away, not knowing what to make of this.

Yolanda nodded. “I’ll head out back front. I’m going to lock the doors though, so it’ll just be your own fine sirs.” She smiled at them, and walked away.

Niall grabbed a robe from Louis, and said to Harry, “Just grab a changing room. Since it’s just us, you can leave all your things here. We’ll get in robes and go first to the soaping room. Oh Harry, mate, you’re going to love this!”

Harry changed and met the others, following them first to this soaping room. As they walked in, his eyes widened. It was a large room, with a huge sunken tub filled with steaming water that appeared to be about waist deep. Scattered around the edge of the pool were various tubs, and the scent of herbs and flowers was heavy in the room. The tub appeared to have a design where it filled from one end and drained from the other, and Harry could immediately see why a soaping tub would need this. With a whoop, the men all dropped their robes and climbed in. The water was hot, not unbearably so but definitely warm, and Harry groaned in appreciation, aches he didn’t even know he had easing as he sank into the warm water. He carefully averted his eyes as Louis climbed in next to him, but couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of caramel toasted skin and strong muscles, and with a start, he realized. Oh he thought to himself, oh dear.

Niall grabbed a couple of of the tubs and handed one to Harry. It had what looked to be a salt or sugar and oil scrub, and the scent in this one was clean and astringent. Harry scooped out a handful, and blissfully scrubbed himself down. The scent in the air got heavier as the others did the same, and for a while, the only sound in the room was the splashing of water and the occasional appreciative groan. 

Harry jumped when he heard a quiet voice from right behind him, “Here, let me do your back.” He glanced over, and Louis was standing there. He looked over, and Zayn was scrubbing Niall’s back, who had his eyes closed in happiness. 

“Um, okay.” He handed over the tub of scrub he was using and waited. Louis scooped out a handful, and placed the tub on the side of the pool. As he carefully smeared the mixture on to Harry’s back, he said, “There’s no benches because this isn’t the lounging room.”

Harry closed his eyes, and realized that beyond Niall’s help in stretching and brisk, impersonal massages when his muscles cramped, he hadn't been touched like this in weeks. “What?”

Louis repeated, “there’s no benches in this tub, because they don’t want you to get too comfortable here. Um, in case you were wondering.”

Vaguely Harry realized that he had, in fact, wondered that, but he was too lost in the sensation of Louis’s strong hands rubbing firmly over the aching muscles in his back, to reply. As Louis’s hands moved lower, he leaned forward, not realizing that he was almost arching his back and thrusting his bum at Louis, lost in how good it felt. “God, Lou, that feels amazing.”

Louis’s hands stilled and all of a sudden, Harry realized what he’s said. “Err, right, I think you’re good,” Louis said, pulling his hands back, and Harry flushed. He looked up, and caught Zayn glancing between the two of them with a puzzled look, and quickly dipped himself down into the water. Thank god he hadn’t gotten hard. Oh he looked down. Oops. He quickly swirled the water around himself to rinse the scrub off of his body, and to hide the evidence of his completely involuntary reaction. “Err, do you want me to…” he raised a dripping hand and awkwardly waved at the tubs of scrub, and looked at Louis, who replied, “Er, no, that’s okay. I’m good.” Harry willed his inappropriate erection away and ducked completely under the water again.

Niall announced that it was time for the cooling room, and Harry managed to get his robe back on without revealing his situation. They moved to the next room, which was exactly what the name suggested - another tub, this one cooler, and more of a plunge tub. From there, they moved to the soaking room, another deep tub with steam rising from it. This tub had benches all around the edges, and could easily have sat 10 or more. Harry quickly disrobed and climbed in, followed by Louis and Niall. Zayn grabbed a bottle, and asked, “Lavender okay with you all?” They agreed, he quickly sprinkled the fragrant oil into the water, and the calming scent filled Harry’s nostrils. Niall slid in next to Harry, with Zayn and Louis sitting across from them. Harry let himself be disappointed for a moment as he glanced quickly at Louis. After all, he thought to himself, it’s been a really long time since I’ve been with anyone, and he’s so pretty, it’s not a surprise. Just remember who he is.

The water was hot and felt amazing on Harry’s sore muscles, and he let his head sink back onto the stone floor behind him as he felt himself finally, finally begin to unwind. He could hear Zayn and Louis talking quietly, with Zayn saying something in an almost teasing tone, to which Louis replied, “Hush, man.” 

“So,” Niall murmurs, unable to keep the smug tone out of his voice, “What do you think?” 

Harry couldn’t quite get his eyes open and he mumbled quietly, “He’s so, so pretty.”

Niall barked out an astonished laugh. “Oh Haz. This place, what do you think about this place?”

Harry flushed, and opened his eyes to meet Niall’s amused grin. “Err, what?” He feigned confusion. “It’s amazing, truly! There’s nothing like this in Diacun.”

“So,” Niall said quietly, moving closer to Harry and leaning his head on his shoulder, “you think he’s pretty?” Harry tipped his head to rest on Niall’s, and looked up to see Louis staring at them and frowning. He supposed it might look odd, but he and Niall were both very comfortable with their own bodies, not to mention they’d been friends forever, so this wasn’t as awkward a position as one might think. “I’m assuming you mean our fair captain, then?” Niall murmured.

Harry frowned. “Wait, I could be talking about Zayn.” he whispered. “He’s quite lovely.” 

Niall just sighed. “Harry. Harry, you forget, I know you. Yeah, Z is gorgeous, but Louis. Well, he’s much more your type, don’t you think?”

Harry frowned, trying to remember to keep his voice down. The room was tiled, so all sound is amplified, but there was a fair amount of ambient noise from the water, so he felt safe enough to say, “God, Niall. I know. I know! But, it would be the worst idea in the history of, well, ideas. He’s my CAPTOR. And look at him! It could never happen.”

Niall just sighed. “It’s definitely complicated, Haz. But, you want what you want, right? You can’t control what the heart desires.” His eyes went blank and Harry, recognizing that look, knew that he’d lost Niall to conversation as the other man was now deep into a new song. Harry knew he’d be useless until he could write down whatever genius was sparked in his mind.

The men all soaked a while longer, and finally, reluctantly, pulled themselves from the water. Harry felt looser and more comfortable than he’d felt since waking up, and couldn’t believe how wonderful it felt to be clean. He told Louis as much as they walked back down the hall to the changing room, with Zayn ahead of them, and Niall behind, humming softly.

Louis nodded. “I love this place. I mean, I enjoy a good lukewarm sponge bath as much as the next man,” Harry snorted and Louis grinned, “but this is amazing. A hidden gem.”

The men changed back into their clothes, and Harry enjoyed the feel of the tight breeches and silk shirt that he hadn’t worn since wakening. As he stepped out of the changing cubicle, he saw Louis catch sight of him and freeze, his mouth slightly open, and, oh Harry thinks, maybe this…draw isn’t as one sided as he thought.


End file.
